


Practice

by DesertBanshee



Series: Smitten [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Making Out, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Smut, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4848719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertBanshee/pseuds/DesertBanshee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After grossing out their campmates for weeks on end, Halsa and Alistair get a room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice

Halsa has Alistair ask after rooms at the tavern, as he’s come to expect any time they need something from a merchant. Send her to a sellsword or a thief and she’ll have them wrapped around her finger within three drinks, but legitimate types always end up asking where a knife-ear such as herself came into so much coin. She _could_ say the same way she came upon such a large sword, but threats are generally bad for business, and the last thing they need is a pub brawl. 

Also bad for business are public displays of affection, but that doesn’t stop her from stealing a kiss when he bends down to tell her about the rooms. Her lips taste like mead and her cheeks are dark and she lets out a snorting giggle at his surprise. He bites the inside of his cheek and stares at his feet, gripped with a crushing surge of affection. Ever since she kissed him he can’t look directly at her. He sees her in bits and pieces like in a dream, the blunt angle of her jaw, her mass of hair swept up at the nape of her neck, the swell of her bottom lip. Nearly every night he’s waited up on watch for her to come to him so he can pull her close enough to _not_ look at her. He can’t get enough of her, even though just the feeling of her tongue in his mouth makes his stomach flip and pressure build between his ears. It’s a strangely pleasurable torture, too much yet not enough, and he’s thankful for the layer of armor separating them, hiding the pressure building between his legs. 

“Alllrrright,” Halsa drawls after draining the last of her cup, “We’ve got four rooms so we’ll have to double up. I thought Morrigan and Shale, Leliana and Wynne, Sten and Zevran?” She shrugs and a low murmur drifts around the table, heads nod - no one objects. If anyone notices the conspicuous absence of the fourth pair, they don’t say so. Alistair’s breath catches in his throat. Maybe he should have expected this, but somehow he hadn’t given it any thought. The prospect of sharing a bed with Halsa, of slipping under covers with her, falling asleep next to her is at once enticing and terrifying. He’s already straining his trousers at the memory of her fingers tracing the curve of his neck; there’s no way he’ll make it through this without humiliating himself. 

The rest of the evening feels like an eternity, searching her in fleeting glances for any indication of her, well, intentions. When he can’t stand it any longer, he excuses himself and finds the room where she’s stashed their packs. It’s undeniably cozy once he’s gotten a fire going, and he’d almost forgotten what a bed felt like after sleeping on the ground for so long. The rain that’s plagued them all day is quite soothing when it’s tapping gently on the roof above him. Where has Halsa got off to, he wonders, but the question fades under heavy eyelids as he lies down just for a moment...

When the door creaks open, he startles awake. “Aw sorry, pilgrim, I didn’t mean to be so long,” Halsa locks the door behind her and pulls her boots off, “I thought grandmum would never leave. Aren’t old people supposed to go to bed early?”

“You were waiting for Wynne to leave?” he asks blearily, struggling to sit upright. 

“Yeah, she kept looking at me weird. I thought she might have something to say about our, erm, _sleeping arrangements_ ,” she raises her eyebrows as she settles next to him, “So I waited her out.”

“I am continually impressed by your ability to dodge awkward conver-,” she cuts him off with her mouth on his, moving to swing a leg over his lap. In an instant, he’s lost all control of himself; he crushes her against him, groaning and panting and clinging to her lips. His cock jerks eagerly as she grinds her hips on his, fists her hand in his hair and latches onto his neck. This doesn’t feel real; his head’s lost in a drowsy haze, and it takes a concerted effort to stop her when she leans back and starts to lift her shirt. 

“Halsa...wait, wait,” he huffs, breathless. 

She looks just as dazed as he feels, dark eyes wide and unfocused, strands of hair springing loose from her bun. She’s so beautiful. He can scarcely believe this force of nature is really here, straddling his lap and grinning at him like she’s about to devour him whole. “Yes, dear?” she asks.

“I -” Maker, how does he say this? “I don’t...want it to happen like this.”

That little divot between her eyebrows. He spends so much time wanting to kiss it, when she’s poring over a map or writing in her notebook. Now it’s killing him. “It?” she says finally, cocking her head.

“I mean,” his face heats and his voice drops to barely above a whisper, “I’ve never done this before.”

“I know,” she shifts to sit between his knees, letting her hands fall into her lap. The divot creases deeper. “I didn’t think you wanted to keep it that way.”

“No! I mean, I don’t. I just - I want it to be right,” he takes a shaky breath and adds, “I want to...I don’t know. Be prepared.”

“How are you gonna prepare?” she asks, lips pressed together, obviously suppressing a snicker. 

“I don’t know, I -” he heaves a sigh. She’s making fun of him. “I figured I’d know what to do when the moment was right.”

She cracks an affectionate smile, leaning forward to rest her palms flat on his chest. “You’re thinking too hard. It doesn’t really happen all at once like that. It’s more like - well, it’s sort of like learning to fight. You have to practice. You only know what to do after you fooled around a little.” Her fingers wander over his throat, stroke the side of his face. He shivers at her touch, longs to feel her against him again. 

“Is that,” he reaches around her neck to untie her hair, “what we were doing just now? Fooling around?” 

“I’d say so. You liked it, yeah?” 

He answers by pulling her onto his lap and kissing her, gentler this time. This is better, his head feels clearer, though now his heart is pounding wildly. “What now?” he asks shakily against her lips. She takes his hands, guides them onto her breasts. He stifles a gasp. All this time he’s avoided touching her there, keeping his hands strictly where he knows what to do with them. “I...what do you...” he stammers. 

“Here,” she takes control of his hands, fingers over his, moves his thumbs over her nipples, “like this.” He tries on his own, rubbing tentatively through thin fabric, and is rewarded with a soft sigh. This isn’t so mysterious. He does the same to himself sometimes. Encouraged, he rubs faster. “You’re not gonna break them,” she says after a moment, “You can squeeze harder than that.” 

She’s teased him before for touching her like she’s a wilting flower. He sees her get knocked about day in and day out, doesn’t he know she’s not a delicate maiden? He follows her suggestion, grips her firmer and his pulse quickens because he’s got an idea. Before he can think himself out of it, he tugs her shirt up and closes his mouth around a nipple, relishing the loud gasp he pulls from her. It isn’t very graceful, and he feels like he’s slobbering on her, but she whimpers his name when he flicks his tongue over the sensitive flesh, _“Ohh, Alistair,”_ and nothing he’s ever imagined has been half as sexy.

He’s vaguely aware of her shirt being tossed aside as he moves to her other breast, and soon after he reluctantly lets go for her to pull his off. Hands wander over his chest and back, and he shuts his eyes tight as she claims his mouth, tugs at his bottom lip with her teeth. Her bare skin is impossibly smooth against his and he’s overwhelmed, every nerve alight. He’s achingly hard, leaking, gripped with the frustration of not knowing how to proceed. 

“Halsa...Oh!” His hips buck involuntarily as she reaches down to rub between his legs. She rests her forehead against his, massaging the bulge in his trousers, tracing along the outline of his length. 

“Can I?” she breathes, fingers ready at the laces of his trousers.

He nods, panting ragged, “Yes.” 

She practically rips the laces open, clambering off his lap and tugging them down his hips. He helps her, kicking the rest of his clothes off as she sheds her own. He takes a deep breath. That stomach-flipping, ear-popping feeling is back, the sensation of falling, like when he used to jump off the steep rocks into Lake Calenhad as a kid. 

“Alright?” If he didn’t know any better, he might think he saw a hint of a blush on Halsa’s face. His own cheeks are on fire and he resists the urge to cover himself. She sits opposite him, leaning back on her hands, familiar bruises and unfamiliar scars marking her torso and legs.

“Yes,” he says, drinking in her naked form, “You’re beautiful.” 

She smirks and bites her lip, sits up on her knees and presses two quick kisses onto his lips. “You too, big boy.”

She pulls them down together side-by-side and folds into him, arms around his waist. He cautiously explores the expanse of her skin, fingers moving over her shoulder, down her back, over the curve of her arse. His cock grazes against the soft skin of her stomach, causing his hips to twitch. He jumps and groans when she grips him and squeezes. She flashes a sly smile as she strokes, “Good?”

He nods, swallows hard, “What about you? I-I don’t know -” 

“I’ll show you.” She lets go of him, slips her fingers between her legs. It’s the strangest feeling, watching her touch herself like she’s alone. Because this _must_ be what she does when she’s alone, he thinks, same as he does. The thought of Halsa spread bare in her tent, rolling her hips as she rubs herself like she’s doing right now, the thought of her doing that after she’s pulled herself away from kissing him, the thought of them touching themselves at the same time in their separate tents, it drives him wild. He can’t just watch anymore. 

He moves against her, caresses her breasts, draws sighs and moans from her as he nips and sucks at her neck, her ear. “I want to try,” he whispers.

She withdraws her hand, leaving herself open for him, warm and tantalizingly slick. He strokes her, clumsily at first, up and down and in small circles like she showed him. She murmurs occasional directions, guides his fingers where she wants them, teases his cock with her free hand. They tangle, legs intertwined, tongues mingling; he focuses on keeping the rhythm, on her steadily quickening breaths. “Alistair,” she digs into his shoulder, “faster,” and he obliges, picking up speed as she begins to sob and thrust up against him. He can’t contain himself, moving with her, moaning along with her until she arches her back and cries out, holding tight to him as she rides out her climax. He doesn’t stop until she pushes his hand away, catching her breath, then he snakes an arm around her and pulls her closer, burying his face in her hair. 

“Good?” he asks into her neck. 

“Very good,” she pants eventually. She turns her face toward his, kisses his forehead, “You’re a natural.” She recovers enough to roam his body, kissing along his now sweat-coated chest, his stomach, pausing at his waist, licking his hipbone. He squirms when she strokes his inner thighs, breathing hot on the base of his cock. 

He tenses, hesitant. Some of the boys in the Chantry used to joke about this, about _sucking cock_ ; he used to himself, though in secret all he wanted was to know what it felt like. It was a guilty desire, though, more guilty even than most. It seems selfish, crude, the sort of thing Halsa’s probably done without much enjoyment in the past. You don’t have to -” he starts but she shushes him, sends a tremor through him as she licks along the underside of his length. 

“I’m good at this,” she braces herself between his legs, grips him and positions him, “I like it. Let me do it.” 

Her eyes are locked on his, seductive between tendrils of dark hair. She waits for him to nod before she wraps her slicked lips around him. He grips the edges of the mattress and it’s all he can do not to thrust into her mouth as she takes him in. She bobs relentlessly, swirling her tongue around the head before swallowing him back, opening her throat to take him deeper. Her moans reverberate around him, and he’s lost, shaking, curling his toes tight. He’s so close, he can’t get a word out, desperate gulping breaths all he can manage. He tries to push her away but she pushes back, sucking him deeper into wet heat and he comes, shivers, twitches, eyes rolling back in his head. He hears his own hoarse shouts as if from far away, fading into low moans as he finds himself sprawled and gasping.

Halsa pushes herself upright and swallows, a smugly triumphant smirk on her face. “Maker’s breath,” he mutters, holding his arms out, pulls her close as she slides an arm under his neck, “That was...that was amazing.”

“I told you I’m good at that,” she replies. He rolls over to face her, limbs heavy, lips tracing lazily over her forehead, down her nose. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, lying naked and entangled with her. He finds her lips and presses in for another taste of her, savoring this all-too-rare moment of peace. 

“So,” she asks after a while, “Do you feel _prepared_ now?”

He laughs, “Oh, I don’t know. I think I need a little more practice.”

“Good idea. But I warn you, pilgrim, I’m a tough trainer. Gonna ride you pretty hard. Might make you cry.”

“I’d like to see you try, Warden Tabris.”

She pulls back, grinning wickedly, “I’ll take that as a challenge, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first time writing smut. I hope it isn't too terrible! I just wanted to convey that sort of stomach-fluttery feeling of fooling around for the first time. I'd super appreciate any comments or (constructive) criticism youse guys could give me. Thanks for reading!


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